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THE 

SPIRIT HARP: 



WJt, 



PRESENTING 



THE POETICAL BEAUTIES 



HABMONIAL PHILOSOPHY, 



cojnipiled by 

MARIA F. CHANDLER. 
w 



BwEET Spikit Harp I tht viewless steixob 
Immortal fijs'gees ^VA^^)ER o'er; 

And each soft touch such music brings 
as floats from the celestial shore. 



PUBLISHED BY R. P. AMBLER. 

GEO. 1V% WILSON, PRINTER. 

MDCCCLL 



PREFACE. 



In offering the following collection of 
poems to the public, the compiler has been 
moved by a desire to supply a want which 
is now beginning to be felt among a large 
and rapidly increasing class of individuals, 
who have been led to admire and receive 
the beautiful principles involved in the Har- 
monial Philosophy. While the world has 
been favored with the profound, scientific 
disclosures of illuminated minds, which 
serve as the broad and indestructible 
foundation of this mighty system of truth, 
it seems appropriate and useful that there 
should be some embodiment of the poetry 
of such a divine Philosophy ; especially 
when it is considered that the simpler 
elements of truth may be conveyed to 
some minds even more effectually through 
this medium, than by means of any la- 
bored argument. 

In addition to the prominent design 
to which reference is here made, this vol- 



ume may also subserve the purpose of a 
singing book, to be used in the circles of 
harmonial believers. Though many of the 
most beautiful poems may not be found 
adapted to this use, yet the reader will 
observe a considerable number vrhich may 
be appropriately used in singing, these be- 
ing in many cases applicable to the cheer- 
ful and inspiring melody of popular airs. 
Many of these poems were originally pub- 
lished in the " Univercoelum " and " Spirit 
Messenger," from which publications they 
are extracted ; while others have been de- 
rived from authors of refined taste and 
acknowledged ability. The compiler is 
aware that, in the infancy of the heaven- 
born truth whose poetical beauties this 
volume may feebly unfold, a work of this 
nature will naturally display many imper- 
fections ; and while she craves the indul- 
gence of the friends to whom it is pre- 
sented, she trusts that it will be accepted 
by them as the best effort which, under 
present circumstances, she has been able 
to make for their gratification. 
Concord, N. H., August, 1851. 



CONTENTS. 



PART I. VOICES OF NATURE. 



Hymo, 


S. H. L. 


' 


Being of God, 


. 


3 : 

4 I 


Lesson of Nature, 




The Divine Glory, . 


. 


^ I 


Love of God, . 




6 ^ 


Praises of Creation, . 


. 


7 S 


God in Nature, . 




8 \ 


Presence of Deity, . 


. 


9 


Voices of Praise, 




10 \ 


Immortality, 




11 \ 


Spring, 




12 ^ 


Song, 


F. G. 


13 I 


Language of Nature, 




14 


The Rains, 


M. F. C. 


15 \ 


A Sonnet, 


R.P. A. 


16 I 


Footsteps of Angels, 


H. W. L. 


!o '< 


The still, small Voice, 


R. P. A. 


19 < 


The Fountain, 


STELLA. 


20 


The world has much of Beautiful, . 


C. D. S. 


22 


Unity, 




24. > 
i 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



PART II. SONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND. 



The Spirit's Yearnings, 


R 


P. A. 


27 


Soul Light, 




. 


29 


To my Mother in Heaven, 


J. 


H.C. 


30 


The Home Angel, . 


F. 


H. G. 


31 


Glimpses of the Spirit-Land, 


S 


H.L. 




The Threshold, 


. 


. 


34 


Reunion, 


. 




36 


Realities, . 


. 




37 


Visions, 


. 




33 


The Seer, . 






39 


Change, 


. 




40 


The Spirit's Welcome, 






41 


The Passage, 






. 43 


Heavenly Joy, 


. 


. 


44 


Land of Bliss, . 


. 




. 45 


Unseen Watchers, . 


, 




46 


Presence of Angels, 


E 


R. C. 


47 


Spirits of the Loved, 




G. F. 


49 


Address to my Guardian Spirit, 


M 


F. C. 


50 


The Early CaUed, . 


STELLA. 


61 


To our Guardian Spirit, . 


S 


G. L. 


52 


Invoking the Angels, . 


STELLA. 


54 


Heavenly Rest, . 


. 




. 55 


Tidings from the Spirit Home, 




. 


57 


1 would not Live alway, 




- 


58 


The Consolation, 






. 58 


The Dying Child's Vision, 


M 


F. C. 


60 


The Request, 


J. 


B. W. 


61 


The Celestial Telegraph, . 


J 


G. L. 


62 



t^ 



Spiritual Communion, 
My Spirit Bride, 
I am Dreaming, 
The Messenger-bird, 
The Dying Girl, 
The Spirit's Farewell. 
The Departed Friend, 
Lines to the Dead, 
Song of the Pilgrim, . 
The Spirit's Flight, 
Love never Sleeps, . 



S. H. L. 
J. B. W. 
. F. H. 



. S. 
M. E. L. 



63 

64 
66 
68 
70 
71 
73 
75 
77 
78 
79 



PART III. SIGNS OF PROMISE. 



The Watcher, 

The Spirit of Progress, , 

Dawning of the Light, 

The Present Age, 

Progress, . 

Lesson of Faith^ 

Great Truths, 

Mission of Thought, 

Hope on, Hope on, Forever, . 

Victory of Truth, 

Strive on. 

True Life, 

Peace and Freedom, 

Progress of Truth, 

Star of Hope, 

The Morning Star, 

Morning of Freedom, 



F. D. G. 
M. H. C. 
M. A. L. 
W. P.M. 

O. S. VV. 

C. D. S. 



81 

83 

84 

87 

90 

92 

93 

96 

96 

98 

99 

100 

100 

103 

104 

105 

106 



Vlll CONTENTS. 




Sun of Truth, .... 


. 107 


Music of Angels, 


108 


Prospect of Heaven, 


. 108 


Mission of Spirits, . 


109 


Triumph of Light, 


. 110 


Progressive Virtue, . 


111 


Closing Prayer, .... 


. 112 




ill 








CO 



THE SPIRIT HARP 



VOICES OF NATURE. 



HYMN. 



O not alone, when like a bird 

Of dark and drooping wing, 
Or like an autumn's faded flower 

That's ceased its blossoming ; 

Would I, Father, think of Thee, 
I ? And all thy works review, — 

\ I The Wisdom and the Love divine 

\ i That make thy gifts so new. 

<< I'd think of Thee, when joy's pure spring 

< i In countless streamlets start, 

^ i And while my hopes are flowering I s 

'i > And ripen on my heart. i < 

l_ .J ' I 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



For Thou art God, the Central Life, 

The Soul of all we see, 
The Sun, the Germ, the Infinite; — 

Whom should we serve but Thee ? 

The Universe is but thy Thought, 
That runs through every age, 

All Science must begin with Thee, 
The Saint alone is Sajje. 



Thou art the Fount, thy Laws the rills 
Though which thy blessings flow, 

And they alone who do thy will, 
Thy benediction know. 



Who then shall have their thirst assuaged, 

And be from bondage free ? 
O Father, may we know in truth, 

The Pure in Heart see Thee. 



i> VOICESOFNATURE. 



^ BEING OF GOD. 

^ ^ There is a God — all Nature speaks, 

Through earth, and air, and sea, and skies 
See, from the clouds his glory breaks, 
When first the beams of morning rise. 

The rising sun, serenely bright, 

O'er the wide world's extended frame, 

Inscribes, in characters of light, 
His mighty Makers glorious name. 

The flowery tribes, all blooming, rise 
Above the weak attempts of art ; 

Their bright, inimitable dyes 

Speak sweet conviction to the heart. 

Ye seeking minds who roam abroad, 
And trace creation's wonders o'er, 

Confess the foot-steps of a God ; 
Come, bow before him, and adore. 



^{^\/'\.r^J\.r^y>^''\^'\y\^'\.- 



il LESSON OF NATURE. 



^ Hail, great Creator, wise and good I 

> To thee our songs we raise ; 

Nature, through all her various scenes, 
Invites us to thy praise. 

At morning, noon, and evening mild, 
Fresh wonders strike our view ; 

And while we gaze our hearts exult 
With transports ever new. 

Thy glory beams in every star 
Which gilds the gloom of night, 

And decks the smiling face of morn 
With rays of cheerful light. 

The lofty hills, the humble vale, 
With countless beauties shine ; 

The silent grove, the cooling shade, 
Proclaim thy power divine- 



Great nature's God, still may these scenes. 

Our serious hours engage ; 
Still may our grateful hearts consult 

Thy work's instructive page. 



THE DIVINE GLORY. 

Thou art, God, the life and light 
Of all this wondrous world we see 5 

Its glow by day, its smile by night, 
Are but reflections caught from thee. 

Where'er we turn, thy glories shine. 

And all things fair and bright are thine 

When Day, with farewell beam delays, 
Among the opening clouds of even, 

And we can almost think we gaze 
Through golden vistas into heaven ; 

Those hues, that make the sun's decline 

So soft, so radiant, Lord, are thine. 

When Night, with wings of starry gloom, 
O'ershadows all the earth and skies, 
; \ Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume 

\ I Is sparkling with unnumbered dyes, — 

? That sacred gloom, those fires divine, 

? So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine. 

I When youthful Spring around us breathes, 
\ Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh ; 

\ And every flower the summer wreathes ; 
I Is born beneath thy kindling eye. 

J Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, 



I And all things fair and bright are thine. 



LOVE OF GOD. 

My God, thy boundless love I praise ; 
How bright on high its glories blaze ! 

How sweetly bloom below ! 
It streams from thine eternal throne ; 
Through heaven its joys forever run, 

And all the earth o'erflow. 

'Tis love that paints the purple morn, 
And bids the clouds, in air upborne, 

Their genial drops distill ; 
In every vernal beam it glows, 
And breathes in every gale that blows, 

And glides in every rill. 

It robes in cheerful green the gi'ound, 
And pours its flowery beauties round, 

Whose sweets perfume the gale ; 
Its bounties richly spread the plain, 
The blushing fruit, the golden grain^ 

And smile on every vale. 

Thus in thy works I see it shine 
With grace and glories all divine, — 

To earthly mortals given ; 
While Faith, bright cherub, points the way 
To realms of everlasting day. 

And opens all her heaven. 



PRAISES OF CREATION. 

\ \ The moonbeams on the billowy deep, 
< \ The blue waves rippling on the strand, 

The ocean in its peaceful sleep, 

The shell that murmurs on the sand, 
The cloud that dims the bending sky, 

The bow that on its bosom glows, 
The sun that lights the vault on high. 

The stars at midnight's calm repose. 
These praise the Power that arched the sky, 
And robed the earth in beauty's dye. 

The melody of Nature's choir. 

The deep-toned anthems of the sea, 
The wind that tunes a viewless lyre, 

The zephyr on its pinions free. 
The thunder with its thrilling notes, 

That peal upon the mountain air, 
The lay that through the foliage floats. 

Or sinks in dying cadence there : 
These all to Thee their voices raise, 
A fervent voice of gushing praise. 

The day-star, herald of the dawn, 
As the dark shadows flit away ; 

The tint upon the cheek of morn. 

The dew-drop gleaming on the spray ; 



From wild birds in their wanderings. 
From streamlet leaping to the sea, 

From all earth's fair and loving things, 
Doth living praise ascend to Thee : 

These, with their silent tongues proclaim 

The varied wonders of Thy name. 



GOD IN NATURE. 

In each breeze that wanders free, 
And each flower that gems the sod, 

Living souls may hear and see, 
Freshly uttered words from God ! 

Had we but a searching mind, 
Seeking good where'er it springs, 

We should then true wisdom find, 
Hidden in familiar things ! 

God is present, and doth shine 

Through each scene beneath the sky, 

Kindling w4th a light divine. 
Every form that meets the eye. 

But the soul, when veiled in sin, 
And eclipsed with fear and doubt, 

From the darkened world within. 
Throws its shade on that without. 



VOICES OF NATURE. 



If the mind would Nature see, 
Let it cherish virtue more ; 

Goodness bears the golden key, 
That unlocks her palace door ! 



PRESENCE OF DEITY. 

There's not a tint that paints the rose, 

Or decks the lily fair, 
Or streaks the humblest flower that grows, 

But God has plac'd it there. 

There's not of grass a simple blade. 

Or leaf of lowliest mien, 
Where heavenly skill is not displayed, 

And heavenly wisdom seen. 

There's not a star whose twinkling light 

Illumes the spreading earth ; 
There's not a cloud, or dark, or bright. 

But mercy gave it birth. 



Then wake, my soul, and sing his name. 

And all his praise rehearse, 
Who spread abroad earth's glorious frame. 

And built the universe. 



VOICE OF PRAISE. 

The seraphs bright are hovering 

Around the throne above, 
Their harps are ever tuning 

To thrilling tones of love. 
Or through the azure soaring. 

Or poised on snowy wing, 
With glowing hearts adoring, 

Sweet choral notes they sing. 

From earth is daily rising 

A rich, harmonious song; 
From sunny perfumed flowers, 

By breezes borne along, — 
From hills in sunlight glittering. 

From smooth, deep emerald seas, 
A cloud of praise is rising. 

Like incense on the breeze. 



So Nature's voice is chanting 

.A full, harmonious song. 
When morning light is breaking, 

Or evening sweeps along. 
And have our hearts no offering, 

Or voice of love to raise? 
let the inward whispering 

Gush forth in earnest praise. 



VOICES OF NATU RE 



11 



IMMORTALITY. 



Sweet day ! so cool, so calm, so bright, 

Bridal of earth and sky, 
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, 

For thou, alas ! must die. 



Sweet rose ! in air whose odors wave, 

And color charms the eye, 
Thy root is even in its grave, 

And thou, alas ! must die. 

Sweet spring ! of days and roses made. 
Whose charms for beauty vie, 

Thy days depart, thy roses fade. 
Thou too, alas ! must die. 

Only a sweet and holy soul 

Hath tints that never fly ; 
While flowers decay, and seasons roll, 

This lives, and cannot die. 



vX ^^^'V.^vVN^^^'V^ 



12 TH E S PI R IT 11 A RP. 



SPRING. 

Hail! reviving, joyous spring, 

Smiling through thy veil of showers ! 

Birds and brooks thy welcome sing; 
Haste, and waken all thy flowers. 

Hark ! a sweet pervading sound 
From the breathing, moving earth ; 

Life is starting all around, 

Sending joy and fragrance forth. 

There is not a silent thing 

In this joyous company; 
Woods, and hills, and valleys ring 

With a shout of jubilee. 

Wake, my spirit ! art thou still 1 

Senseless things have found a voice; 

Shall this throbbing heart be still 
When all nature cries rejoice? 

Join the grateful, happy throng, 
Cast each selfish care away ; 

Birds and brooks shall tune your song ; 
This is Nature's holiday. 



SONG. 



BY FANNY OB3SX 



Question the flowers at early dawn, 

Softj blushing angels of the mom ; 

Bend close thine ear and ask them where 

The spirit dwelleth, who, so fair 

Hath made them. Echo answereth, " WTiere 1 " 

Go, ask the sky, and ask the dew, 

What molds the drop, and paints the blue, — 

Seek if the Spirit dwelleth there ; 

A voice comes sobbing through the air — 

'Tis only Echo murmuring : '^ There ! " 

Now whisper to the whispering breeze 
That bendeth the acacia trees, 
And listen if it telleth who 
Gave it the first breath that it drew ; 
But Echo only answereth : '•' Who 1 " 



Question the spirit in thy breast, 
That, waking, sleeping, ne'er hath rest, 
If it hath wings for soaring higher. 
Thrilling, as with a tongue of fire. 
Cries joyful Echo : " Higher ! Higher ! " 



14 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



LANGUAGE OF NATURE. 

Heard ye the whisper of the breeze, 

As soft it murmured by, 
Amid the shadowy forest trees ? 
It tells with moaning sigh. 
Of the bowers of bliss on that viewless shore, 
Where the weary spirit shall sin no more. 

While sweet and low in crystal streams 

That glitter in the shade. 
The music of an angel's dreams 
On bubbling keys are played ; • 
And their echoes breathe with a mystic tone, 
Of that home where the loved and lost are gone. 

And when at evening's silent hour. 

We stand on Ocean's shore. 
And feel the soul-subduing power. 
Of its mysterious roar. 
There's a deep voice comes from its pearly caves. 
Of that land of Peace which no ocean laves. 



And while the shadowy veil of Night 

Sleeps on the mountain side. 
And brilliants of unfathom'd light 
Begem the concave wide, — 
There's a spell, a power, of harmonious love, 
That is beckoning mute to the realms above. 



And Earth in all her temples wild, 

Of mountain, rock, and dell. 
Speaks with maternal accents mild, 
Our doubting fears to quell. 
Of another shore and a brighter sphere. 
Where we haste on the wings of each dying year. 



THE RAINS. 



BY MARIA P. CHANDLSH. 



The gentle rains, the gentle rains, 

Descending from above, — 
They bear in every lucid drop 

Sweet messages of love. 
At Heaven's baptismal fount I stand. 
And from pure Nature's beauteous hand, 
Delicious drops are falling now, 
That bathe in pearls my brow. 



And thus baptized am I, into 
The name of Nature's Three — 

The Sun-light and the Waters, 
And the Winds that wander free. 

Now evermore my heart shall be, 

Subdued by their divinity ; 

Until upon my spirit's sight 

Shall break celestial light. 



16 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



Until upon another shore 

Entrancing sounds I hear — 
The dashing of the waters 

Of the Spirit-land so dear ; 
Where zephyrs of immortal birth, 
More pure, more soft than those of earth, 
Shall fan the flame of Love's own fires, 
And sweep angelic lyres. 



A SONNET. 



BY K. P. amble: 



The earth is bright 
As the clear light 

Shines on its blooming breast ; 
And flowers are fair 
That slumber there 

In sweet and dewy rest. 



The sky is clear, 
Without a tear, 

In wide majestic blue ; 
And clouds we see 
That wander free, 

Are tinged with sunlight hue. 





Each twinkling star 
That gleams afar, 

Gives light to sleeping earth ; 
And 'neath the storm, 
The rainbow's form 

In beauty has its birth. 



So Nature's voice 
Bids all rejoice 

In this fair home of love ; 
While Faith serene, 
With heavenly mein, 

Points to the Spheres above. 



FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS. 

BT H. "W. LONGFELLOW. 

When the hours of day are numbered, 
And the voices of the night, 

Wake a bitter soul that slumbered, 
To a holy, calm delight, 



Ere the evening lamps are lighted, 
And like phantoms grim and tall, 

Shadows from the fitful firelight 
Dance upon the parlor wall; 



18 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



Then the forms of the departed, 

Enter at the open door ; 
The beloved ones, the true hearted, 

Come to visit me once more. 

They the holy ones and weakly, 
Who the cross of suffering bore. 

Folded their pale hands so meekly — 
Spake with us on earth no more ! 

And with them, the being beauteous. 
Who unto my youth was given. 

More than all things else to love me, 
And is now a saint in heaven. 

With a slow and noiseless footstep, 
Cornes that messenger divine, 

Takes the vacant chair beside me. 
Lays her gentle hand in mine ; 

And she sits and gazes at me 
With those deep and tender eyes. 

Like the stars, so still and saint-like, 
Looking do\vnward from the skies. 



Uttered not, yet comprehended. 
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, 

Soft rebukes in blessings ended, 
Breathing from her lips of air. 



VOICES OF NATURE. 

Oh ! though oft depressed and lonely, 
All my fears are laid aside, 

If I but remember only 
Such as they, have lived and died. 



THE STILL, SMALL VOICE. 

BY R. P. AMBLSa. 

'Tis not in Nature's angry mood, 

When threatening storms and tempests rise, — 
'Tis not when fearful lightnings flash. 

And rolling thunder rends the skies ; 
But when the dismal clouds have passed, 

And angry winds are hushed to rest ; 
When earth is left to sweet repose, 
And silence steals upon her breast ; 
There comes in cadence soft and low, 
From smiling vale and streamlet's flow, 
The voice that breathes in spheres above, — 
The still, small voice of heavenly love. 



So when the soul to peace is lulled, 
And angry passions rage no more ; 

When wrath and hate have spent their breath, 
Like waves that die upon the shore ; 



When still and calm the spirit moves 

In harmony with Nature's soul, 
And breathes its gentle music forth, 
As worlds in endless cadence roll ; 
There flows the sweet, inspiring breath 
Of angels, round the couch of death, 
And softly floats from spheres above, 
The still, small voice of heavenly love. 



THE FOUNTAIN. 



BT SrSLLA. 



Sweet fountain welling forth to light. 
From thy dark prison house below, 

Thy crystal waters fresh and bright. 
Onward to distant oceans flow. 

So some pure spirit, born of earth, 
Freed from its darksome home of clay, 

Springs joyous into second birth, 
And hails a brighter, fuller day. 



Sweet fountain, from thy foaming crest, 
Now tremulous the sun's rays gleam. 

As some blithe bird with snowy breast, 
Glances in day's first dewy beam. 






The flowers that stud thy grassy brink, 
To thee their bright existence owe, 

From mystic tubes their fibers drink, 
Instinctive piercing earth below. 

Those fibers traversing the earth, 
How like to human forms are they, 

In nourishing a brighter birth 
While grouping on their darkling way. 

How little knows the insensate root, 
Of what it nourishes so fair, — ■■ 

That verdant leaf, and flower, and fruit, 
Are waving in the upper air. 



As little knows the untaught mind, 
Its joys, and hopes all centered here,- 

Of germs within its depths designed, 
To blossom in a higher sphere. 



" THE WORLD HAS MUCH OF BEAUTIFUL.' 



BY 0. D, STUART. 



The world has much of beautiful, 

If man would only see ; 
A glory in the beaming stars 

The lowest budding tree ; 
A splendor from the farthest east 

Unto the farthest west ; 
Aye ! every thing is beautiful 

And we are greatly blest ! 

Tis only that our eyes are dim 

And clouded, that we go 
So sorrowful, and lonely like, 

Along our path below ; 
For kindling sights are in the skies. 

And on the spicy air, 
And beauty bids us wake and see 

That love is every where. 



Is not the morning light our own, 
The cool and mellow eve ? 

Do not the voices of the flowers 
Forbid the soul to grieve? 

Why are we sad and lonely, then — 
The earth is bright and gay, 



VOICES OF NATURE 



23 



And hope, with golden wing, inspires 
The heart from day to day. 

There is a host of angels, who 

With every moment throng, 
If we would only list awhile 

The cadence of their song; 
They speak in every sunny glance 

That flashes on the stream, 
In every holy thrill of ours, 

And every lofty dream. 

We know not half the good that lies 

Around our pathway here ; 
We smother blessing with a sigh, 

Or drown it with a tear, 
And think the earth is made amiss. 

Because in lonely hours 
We see among the thorns of life 

No soft and soothinj? flowers. 



The world is good and beautiful. 

We all may know it well, 
For there are many thousand tongues 

That every day can tell 
What love has cheered them on the way, 

O'er every ill above — 
It only needs a goodly heart 

To know that all is Love ! 



— — — y^ 




Then murmur not, good traveler. 

But see the brighter years, 
That beam beyond the dark to-day, 

So hidden by thy tears ; 
Still toil away, and hope away, 

For soon the ill is past, 
And death will steer thy shattered bark 

To better climes at last. 



UNITY. 



There is a mighty Oneness to my eyes, 

In all the show of earth, and sea, and skies, 

And all embrace in blissful unity. 

And blend in love — and all in One agree. 

In me, a part, then lives the Mighty One, 
That blends me with all things beneath the sun, 
Which to me dawns, while every rolling sphere 
His love may feel, his call to Oneness hear. 



And all that is, in beauty strives to dress, 
Or with sweet music calls to its caress ; 
Thus harmony and beauty are the seal 
Of the great Oneness, which I see, and feel. 



VOICES OF NATURE 



To thee, Great Oneness ! I in meekness bow 
And would in harmony with all things flow ; 
Love then shall give me its own loveliness — 
And all my life in beauteous robes shall dress 




\J^r^sJ'\./\J's,.rs,^r\.r^J\./^^.^^ 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



SONGS OE THE SPIRIT-LAND. 



THE SPIRIT'S YEARNINGS. 

BY R. P. AMBLER. 

Dim are the scenes of earthly bliss. 

The world grows cold, and dark, and drear ; 

A fairer, brighter sphere than this. 
Dawns on my longing vision here. 

The ties of selfish love may break, — 

My spirit wander far away. 
While soft and holy tones shall wake 

Its yearnings for a brighter day. 

Welcome, thou Spirit of the tomb ! 

Sweet are the slumbers thou dost bring. 
For thou shalt bear me to my home, 

Where songs of triumph angels sing. 



28 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



Wilt go with me, my spirit bride, 
To gaze upon the heavenly land 1 

Where we forever, side by side. 
May mingle with the seraph band ? 

We'll roam throughout celestial bowers, 
Or rest beneath the shady grove ; 

We'll cull the fair, unfading flowers, 
As emblems of our deathless love. 

We'll wander by the crystal streams, 
Or bathe in fountains pure and clear ; 

We'll woo us sweeter, brighter dreams 
Than ever blessed our spirits here. 



Then come, when life'; 



brief hour is o'er, 
'Mid scenes of earth no longer sigh ; 
Upward with angel-wings we'll soar 
To the bright world of harmony. 




SOUL-LIGHT. 

Gently o'er the senses stealing, 
Lute-like comes an unseen throng, 

Spirits, waking each a feeling 
With a birth-baptismal song. 



Chalice held by fairy fingers, 

Seems the soul — all brimming o'er- 

' Neath a fountain, still it lingers 
Where the living waters pour. 

Now, a mirror's disc it seemeth, 
Far beneath a crystal flow, 

Where the inner sun-light gleameth 
As the bubbles upward go. 



Beaming eye-light truly telleth, 
In a language all its own. 

That behind these glances dwelleth 
Love, illuming pleasure's throne. 







TO MY MOTHER IN HEAVEN. 

BT J. H. CHIVSES, M. T. 

I see thee not ; thou art not here, dear mother ! 

To speak affection to my broken heart ! 
And he who loved thee as he loved no other, 

Must live to love thee for the friend thou 
wert ! 

1 see thee not ! thy spirit long hath tasted 
The liberal largess of this world sublime. 

While here thy ministry of love unwasted, 
Shall be remembered in the after time. 

I see thee not! thy form is not before me, 
As it was wont to be in days gone by; 

But thy dear spirit is now hovering o'er me 
In that immortal shape that cannot die ! 

I see thee not ! thou art in that dark prison 
Wherein the voice of mourning cannot come ; 

But thy dear soul above this world has risen, 
To reign forever in its heavenly home. 

I see thee not ! there is no eye can see thee. 
And all our searchings in this world are vain ; 



SONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND 



31 



And we may yearn from that bright world to free 
thee, 
But we shall never meet thee here again ! 

I see thee not ! thou art as some great treasure 
That earth has yielded for an angel's crown, 

Where light has shone upon me without measure, 
But whose great righteousness shall not go 
down! 

I see thee not ! thy face is hid forever 

From all those dear ones who now mourn with 
me; 

But they were near thee — all but him, who never 
In all this world shall cease to grieve for thee ! 



THE HOME ANGEL. 



BT PRANCES H. GREEN. 



A wing of arrowy fleetness 

Is softly folded here ; 
A voice of silvery sweetness 

Is whispering in the ear ! 
Joy ! for the heavenly music ! 

Whose harmony may tell 
In love's divinest numbers, 

" Dear Mother ! all is well ! " 



32 THE SPIRIT HARP. 

" lift thy head, dear Father, 

Where now I lay my hand ] 
And bright hopes thou shalt gather, 

Of the blessed. Spirit-land; 
For to the holy angels 

There is music in the knell — 
There is rapture in the death-throes ; 

Dear Father — all is well ! *' 

" cease thy mourning. Mother ! 

And wipe thy tears away, 
For with my angel-brother 

Through the bowers of love I stray ! 
And spirit twined with spirit, 

We have come here to tell 
A story full of comfort. 

Dear Mother ! all is well ! " 

" Ah, soon my gentle sisters. 

Of the bright fraternal band. 
You shall walk with me the vistas 

Of this fair and radiant land ; 
The holy home of angels 

Where soul to soul may tell. 
What now I fain would whisper, 

Sweet sisters ! all is well ! " 

" How I've thrilled as I have sought her. 
My bright and peerless one ! 



ONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND. 33 

lead my little daughter 

■ As ye have ever done ; 
And Sisters ! Father ! Mother ! 
Let your hearts with rapture swell, 

1 shall watch for you in heaven ! 

Rejoice! for all is well!" 



Now in the holy silence 

A vital sweetness lingers, 
As if the air we're breathing 

Were swept by angel fingers ! 
Upon the mouldering grave-stone 

A new-born light hath beamed j 
And Death's dark vale is starr}-. 

With the joy of the redeemed ! 



GLIMPSES OF THE SPIRIT-LAND. 



BT S. H. LLOTD. 



THE THRESHOLD. 

What mists are these that hang before my eye, 

And hide me from the faces that I love ? 
What form is this that to my side draws nigh, 

And hovers o'er me hke some phantom dove 1 
My recollection reels, and through my brain 

Each wandering thought like orphaned children 
seems, 
While 'round my form I hear a sound like rain, 

For so the angels' steps appear in dreams. 



What light is this that gilds this opening morn ? 

What sweet-robed train now waits around my 
side? 
And why this waiting for the day's young dawn 1 

This seeming waiting for a soul's sweet bride ? 
A form I see from out this blessed throng. 

As now she pillows me upon her breast. 
My Guardian- One, whose harp shall tune my 
song. 

Who, loving me, attends me to my rest. 



And this is Death, that once so much I feared, — 
Disrobing of the mantle that I wore, 
I ^ And these the forms that all my life have cheered, 
<l Now bearing me where all of death is o'er. ^^ 

With sweet discourse they chain my list'ning ear, O 
And tell me now of this sweet land I see, ' ■ 

Till into pearls they crystalize each tear, 
And all I feel is one vast melody. 



But yet, Earth, again I turn to thee. 

As now with clearer vision I behold 
Each loving form that still doth cling to me, 

Whose aching hearts leave all their griefs un- 
told. 
I go, for like the Autumn leaves the wind 

Has gently loosed upon each bending bough, 
Have griefs around this heart of mine entwined 

And loosed the hold my life has felt till now. 

Yet not in sorrowing my spirit greets 

The forms that bear me through these clouds 
away. 
But as the chrysalis its summons meets. 

O'er flowering fields to greet the new-born 
day ;— 
I go, but in that Land, to us so near, 
c ^ As near the flower is to its budding stem, 

^ ^ I too will linger 'round my loved ones here, 
( > And 'round their couch in triumph wait for them. 



36 T H E S P I n I T H A R p. 



REUN ION. 

How often loosed the silver cord we find, 

And at its fount the golden bowl is broken, ^ I 

But Love is stronger than the cords that bind 
Our fragile forms — outlives each earthly token. 

So while around this tufted grass we stand, 
And for our loss our bleeding hearts repine, 

We see afar the Amaranthine- Land, 

The vine-clad hills, beyond this flowing Rhine. 

And then we see, what Doubt forbade, but 
Thought 
Made sure, that there each loving form we'll 
find, 
And in that Land, as Heaven's own prophets 
taught, 
We all shall meet, no wanderer left behind. 

And as the dew-drops mingle on the rose, 

And stars are sweetly grouped, our hearts ex- 
plain 

How in that Land, the longing soul well knows, 
We'll mingle there on that far-reaching plain ; — 

In rythmic groups, our rythmic hearts be formed 
To drink the music of the higher spheres, 






SONGS OF THE SPIRIT- LAND 



37 



And all our joys by harmonies conformed. 

Make real what now we glimpses have through 
tears. 

REALITIES. 

I have such thoughts, so beautiful and sweet, 

I fain embrace as night each nestling star, 
That come as does the morn, with dewy feet, 

And heralding the joy that breaks afar; — 
And thoughts to me so simply true and real. 

As real as dew-drops are unto the leaf, 
That I discourse, until my fond Ideal, 

Is wedded to the form of my Belief. 

The Spirit-land then stands before my eyes 

Not as a city we in fancy make. 
But as a city 'neath the moonlight lies 

With shadows seen reposing on the lake ; — 
And I can clearly see the silver spray 

That sparkles when the boatman lifts his oar, 
As towards the Palace of Immortal Joy 

O'er silent waves he plies his passage o'er. 

And then a sound comes floating to my ears 
Like rustling leaves the playful winds had 
fanned, 

Until the Gates I've seen through falling tears, 
I see with Heaven's own rainbow spanned ; — 



^^ 



38 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



u 



And beings here that to my dreams belong, 
With waving palms attend each welcome band, 

And with their starry harps recite in song 
The harmonies that fill the Spirit- Land: — 

And there'are seen those^blooming fields and rills 

That fringe the margin of that peaceful bay, 
The life, the same, that here our bosoms thrills 

Still finds us pilgrims on our upper way; — 
And I rejoice so real to^find it all. 

As finds the chrysalis' the fields and trees, — 
That doubt was but the shadow of the wall. 

My spirit now through its own starlight sees. 



VISIONS. 

I have had dreams, should I attempt to speak 
In vain my lips would now essay to tell, 

As would the stars should they begin to teach 
The loveliness that in their bosoms dwell. 

When sleep has come, and 'neath her dewy wings 
The angels find me folded on her breast, 

My soul before them like a tablet spread. 

With visions then have so my heart impressed. 

That I retain the pictured scenes within. 
And all the raptures that my spirit knew. 







ONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND 



As lover's hearts the imaged face retain, 
Or as in leaves the flowers retain their dew. 

And thus I muse on visions past I've had, 

The scenes that nightly bind me in their spell, 

Until the life I spend within in sleep, 

Becomes more real than that in which we 
dwell. 



THE SEER. 



In this vast temple of the soul, 

What fairy glimpses here have we. 
When closed are all the outer doors 

From which the outward world we see ;- 
And as our spirits then may roam 

From land to land, and star to star. 
And bring the Spirit-land so near. 

We once had thought so dimly far,— 

What truth and beauty then impress 

The spirit's likeness on the face, 
When as the starlight meets the star 

The Spirit-land and we embrace j— 
And thus are mirrored on the cheek 

The shadows of that world of love, 
As through the soul the figures pass— 

The imaged forms of those above. 



40 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



The eyes are closed, as night lets down 

Her curtains from the dewy skies, 
But as the night reveals the stars 

The day had hidden from our eyes, — 
So when all outer gates are closed 

And sculptured sleep our lips may seal, 
Then round our forms the Land is seen, 

That now these outer doors conceal. 

And as the notes in music rise, 

And in successive scales must chime, 
So next this world that round us lies 

The Spirit-land takes up the rhyme ; — 
And all things here that now we have, 

Are types of those that there we'll see. 
As note to note, and scale to scale, 

Here t}^ify the Harmony. 

CHANGE. 

Why should we mourn that changes come, 
When 'neath the cold and shrouded snow, 

The grass and flowers may shelter find. 
And in the darkness bud and otow'? 



Why should we mourn that clouds are formed 
And o'er our drooping spirits fly 1 

The law that forms the clouds, expands 
The bow and brings unclouded sky. 



SONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND. 41 Ij 

Our hopes may fall like leaves away, 

As swiftly pass each winged hour, 
But leaves ne'er fall until the fruit 

Is formed within the bursting flower. 

\ Then change is angel of the soul, 
; < That keeps all things from swift decay, — 

Through which the crystal here is formed 
And life anew may spring alway. 



\ Thus when upon those thoughts I muse, 

> That once awoke my brooding fears, 

\ I see how Beauty's matchless soul, 

I In all with cheerful robes appears. 

< I see the worm upon the ground, 
i With golden tints expand its wing; — 

What, then, as more than w^orm I am. 
Unto my soul shall changes bring ^ 



THE SPIRIT'S WELCOME. J^ 

Welcome, sweet dweller from the earth, J ' 

Sweet welcome to these gates of Day ; i ' 

Thy soul has now its second birth 
And like a bird may soar away. 



Welcome, the night of grief is o'er, 
Of pain and strife and wasting care, 

We here outlive each scar we bore, 
And none have burdens here to bear. 

For Thought, and Play, and Work, and Love, 

Go gaily walking hand in hand, 
And in these fields of light above,* 

They here go rhyming through the Land. 

All sin and discord here must end, 
And none exist except in dreams. 

For here with God our spirits blend, — 
And fountains purify their streams. 

No night is here to mantle o'er, 

Like some dark bird of brooding wing, 

For joy here reigns forever more, 
And hopes forever blossoming. 

'Tis true, we look above and see 
The spheres as they encircling rise. 

But then we know in harmony 

Each field in sweet progression lies. 

Thus on the heart sweet voices fall. 
Like starlight from some friendly star, 

Wlien on that shoreless land we call. 
And trembling cast our glance afar. 



THE PASSAGE. 

With rustling wings they come adown the sky, 

The spirits of another sphere, 
And 'round a form in sweet embraces bend, 

As friends we meet do often here. 

The Palace- Gates are ope'd, and through the 
clouds 

Sweet groups are passing through the sky. 
Upborne by angels on their snowy breasts, 

The spirits of our planet fly. 

The guardian-ones who watched them from their 
birth, 

Now go before the starry train, 
And lead them on, with palms within their hands, 

To joy's abodes — the heavenly plain. 

And now on each enraptured ear, sweet strains 
Of music fall from harps unseen. 

And light from its blessed home streams forth. 
Like morn beneath its golden sheen. 

Thus from the couch to yon bright gates of Day 

Are spirits passing to and fro, 
The messengers that tend us on our way, 

Whom though unseen we yet shall know. 






HEAN'ENLY JOV. 

How full of ceaseless life the world ! 

Its mountains, fields and streams, 
And every changing scene within 

That through each spirit gleams. 
The bird goes flying through the air, 

The waves go rushing from the shore, 
So thought goes bounding through the soul 

And ne'er within be silenced more. 



The joys of Heaven must ceaseless be 



Not listless as the sand, 
Some wave had borne across the sea 

And piled upon the land ; — 
Nor do they cloy or fade away, 

But to the soul return again. 
As skies receive the streamlet's gift 

To pour it back in dew and rain. 

And what is Joy 1 The boundless stream 

That slakes each thirsting soul, 
From Love's sweet fount of being fed. 

By Wisdom taught to roll ; 
< I Whose fount in vain we seek to reach, \ ] 

Whose source we vainly seek to know, < I 

But by whose ever living banks ^ ^ 

The pleasures deepen as we go. ^l 



S0NG8 OF THE SPIRIT-LAND. 45 <l 



LAND OF liLlSS. 

O Land of Bliss, my heart now turns 

With longing hopes to thee, 
As long the blossoms for the spring 

The sun-beams strive to free ; — 
stream of Time, on whose sw^eet wave, 

Like flowers upon thy breast, 
My thoughts thy flowing tide doth bend 

Towards that sweet land of rest. 

O Land of Fruit, that hangs so rich 

Upon thy bending trees, 
O when shall I beneath thy shade 

Inhale the swelling breeze ? — 
And with these rapturous eyes behold 

The white-robed angel band, 
And drink the flowing landscape in, — 

The sweet and dewy Land '? 

And with me too, the beings loved, 

Find all of sorrow o'er, — 
When shall these tearful partings cease 

On life's retreating shore ? — 
And by those living streams may pluck, 

The amaranth and rose. 
And drink the nectar from the streams 

Where deathless water flow^s 1 



46 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



Land of Bliss, my heart now turns 

With longing hopes to thee, 
As long the blossoms for the spring 

The sun-beams strive to free; — 
stream of time, on whose sweet wave. 

Like flowers upon thy breast, 
My thoughts thy flowing tide doth bend 

Towards that sweet land of rest. 



UNSEEN WATCHERS. 

Oft in the stilly night 

When slumber's chain has bound us, 
Kind spirits bring the light 

Of other spheres around us. 
They whisper soft of joy and peace, 

Our dreams of heaven inspiring ; 
Their vigils o'er us never cease, 

They're constant and untiring. 
Thus in the stilly night, 

When slumber's chain has bound us. 
Kind spirits, pure as light. 

Are hov'ring gently round us. 



And when the noisy scenes 
Of busy life allure us, 



From ills, to us unseen, 

They're watchful to secure us ; 
Unconsciously we feel their power, 

Their warnings, timely given. 
Unseen, they guide, at every hour, 

Our onward way to heaven. 
Thus in the stilly night. 

When slumbers chain has bound us, 
Kind spirits, pure as light. 

Are hov'ring gently round us. 



PRESENCE OF ANGELS. 



We are not alone, nay never alone, 

Beautiful spirits wherever we roam. 

In the summer's sigh, in the wintry moan, 

Breathe around us ! 

We are not alone in the dark deep shade 
Of the tall old trees in the forest made ; 
For beneath their spreading boughs have strayed 

Spirits of light. 



48 T H E S P I R I T H A R p. 



Those beautiful ones are with us alway, 

They shine o'er each path, they brighten each day, 

With a holy light — a glorious ray 

Of goodness divine. 

And may we not deem that loved ones long flown 
To the beautiful land, to their happy home, 
Do even sometimes to the cold earth come, 

To guide us hence ? 

Aye, those who have broken the bonds of earth, 
Whom we meet no more in the halls of mirth 
Are hovering still round the lonely hearth 

Our spirit-guides. 

They are with us yet by its saddened light, 
With whispered thoughts of the pure and bright, 
And they bring to the dreamy hours of night 

Visions all beautiful. 

Oh, then, let us list to the thoughts they breathe, 
That when we this for a brighter sphere leave, 
We may of their gathered beauties wreathe 

A glorious crown. 



SONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND. 49 



SPIRITS OF THE LOVED. 



Good spirits from a brighter shore, 
A fairer land than that of earth. 

Right-glad we welcome you once more 
Back to each lonely home and hearth! 

Come from the climes of cloudless day, 
The radiant realms by angels trod ; 

At morning, noon, or twilight grey. 
Come in the name and love of God ! 

And let, while here our broken bands 
In mournful sadness daily meet. 

The silent touch of spirit-hands 
Announce the circle still complete ! 



ADDRESS TO MY GUARDIAN-SPIRIT. 

BY MARIA P. CHANDLER. 

My guardian one ! oh, art thou here 
And dost thou see this falling tear 1 — 
Say dost thou bend thy wakeful ear, 
My lowest plaint and sigh to hear ? 
0, speak to me, and let me know, 
Thy spirit-tones' melodious flow ! 

Appear to me ! permit my gaze 

Upon that forehead's chastened rays ! 

0, let me feel upon my brow. 

Thy touch, celestial spirit, now ! 

That I may bid adieu to fears. 

And drink the pure love of the Spheres. 



" Mine earthly one, confide in me ; 
I all thy griefs and sorrows see ; 
Believe me ever true ; and now 
I place my hand upon thy brow ! 
Be tranquil, happy ; unto thee 
Flows evermore my sympathy." 



S0N08 OF THE 8PIRIT-LAND 



51 



THE EARLY CALLED. 



Not the early sun-light gleaming, 
Ruddy o'er the hills of timej— 

No, the light to me is beaming 
From the spirit-sun sublime. 

Hail ! all hail ! oh, glorious morrow, 
Ushering in immortal birth ; 

No more sickness, no more sorrow, 
For the early called from earth. 

See the holy angels waiting. 
Glorious in their bright array ! 

They their white arms elevating, 
Beckon us to come away. 

Now the tide of life is rising 

Which shall wash away my tears. 

In its foremost wave comprising 
All the joys of vanished years. 

Dearest mother, cease thy grieving. 
Calm the anguished throb of woe, 

Every sob thy bosom heaving 
But impedes its onward flow. 



52 THE SPIRIT HARP. 



Deep on memory's page engraven, 
All thy lovO; and all thy care, 

I shall bear with me to Heaven, 
And shall fondly wait thee there. 

Now the sapphire gates are open, 
Sparkling in celestial day ; 

Now the silken cord is broken, 
And my spirit bursts away. 



TO OUR SPIRIT-GUARDIAN. 

BY MRS. S. G. LOVE. 

Chill came the tidings to our stricken spirit ; 

Lowly we bowed beneath affliction's hand. 
When thou, who didst our deepest love inherit, 

Passed from our sight to a happier land. 

We thought of thee in the cold grave lying, — 
Light from the grave's unknown abyss has 
come ; 
Thou, even thou, with gentle tones and kindly, 
Has breathed us tidings of thine own blessed 
home. 



And when in sadness early joys were blighted, 
And faintly shone the star of hope above, 

Then thou wast near, and our dim vision lighted, 
With tokens of thy watchfulness and love. 

Blest spirit-sister ! holy tones are waking 

To truths sublime the loved ones of thy care — 

We list thy teachings when the morn is breaking, 
We hear low murmurs on the evening air. 



We feel thy presence when the morn is beaming. 
And calmly glow the radiant orbs of night ; 

When tempests lower we see thy bright star 
gleaming, 
And through the darkness pours celestial light. 



54 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



INVOKING THE ANGELS. 

BY 8TELT,A. 

Angel father, oh ! be near me, 
On my journey to the tomb ! 

Let thy blessed presence cheer me 
In the hours of pain and gloom. 

Angel mother, see me languish, 

Almost ready to despair ! 
Thou canst calm the brow of anguish, 

Thou canst soothe the heart of care ! 

Angel sisters, oh ! how lovely 
As in shining robes ye stand ! 

Haste away, ye lingering moments, 
Let me join the blessed band ! 

This conviction, how consoling ! 

That though loud the breakers roar, 
Every wave of time in rolling, 

Bears me nearer to the shore. 



Fetters cannot long detain me ; 

Fetters formed of crumbling clay, 
From the spirit's form relaxing, 

Link by link shall fall away. 



OF THE SPIEIT-LAND» 

When the last Imk shall be loosened, 
When the last hour shall have sped, 

Angel mother, on thy bosom 
Let me lean my weary head. 

Angel father, then conduct me 
To the bowers of lasting bliss ! 

Sister, cast your arms around me, 
Greet me with a nectar'd kiss. 

Wlio would pine at earthly sorrow, — 
Who would sigh for bliss that cloys, 

Knowing an eternal morrow, 
Ushers in eternal joys'? 



HEAVENLY REST. 

There is an hour of peaceful rest, 
To mourning wand'rers given ; 
There is a joy for souls distress'd, 
A balm for every wounded breast,- 
'Tis found alone in heaven. 



There is a soft, a downy bed. 
As fair as breath of even ; 



G^ — 



A couch for weary mortals spread, 
Where they may rest the aching head, 
And find repose in heaven. 

There is a home for weary souls, 

By sin and sorrow driven ; 
When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals. 
Where storms arise and ocean rolls. 

And all is drear — but heaven. 

There Faith lifts up the tearful eye. 

To brighter prospects given ; 
It views the tempest passing by. 
Sees evening shadows quickly fly. 

And all serene — in heaven. 

There fragrant flowers immortal bloom. 

And joys supreme are given ; 
There rays divine disperse the gloom : — 
Beyond the dark, the narrow tomb 

Appears the dawn of heaven. 




ONGS O F T H K S P I RIT - L A N D. 57 ?/^ 

TIDINGS FROM THE SPIRIT-HOME. ^i 



We have heard from the bright, the better land, 

We have hetird and our hearts are glad ; 
For we were a lonely pilgrim band 

And weary, and worn, and sad. 
They tell us the pilgrims ever dwell there — 

No longer are homeless ones ; 
We know that the goodly land is fair — 

Life's river of water there runs ! 

They say green fields are waving there, 

And they never a blight shall know ; 
That deserts' wilds are a blooming fair, 

And roses of Sharon grow ; 
And lovely birds in bowers green, 

Their melody ever repeat ; 
Their warblings mingle in ev'ry scene, 

With harpings of seraphs so sweet ! 

We have heard of the robe, the palm, the crown, 

And the silvery band in white ; 
The city of gems in a high renown, 

Illumed with heavenly light : 
The King is seen in his beauty fair, 

The joy and the light of the land ; 
A little while and we hope to be there, 

To join with that glorious band ! 



I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY. 



I would not live ahvay : I ask not to stay, 
Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way ; 
The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here, 
Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its 
cheer. 



Who, who would live alway, away from his God? 
Away from his kingdom, that blissful abode, 
Where rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains, 
And the noon-tide of glory eternally reigns ; 

Where souls of all ages in harmony meet, 
Their brethren and kindred, transported to greet ; 
Where anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, 
And the smile of the Father is life to the soul. 



THE CONSOLATION. 



Cease ye mourners, cease to languish 
O'er the graves of those you love, 
Pain and death, and night, and anguish, 
Enter not the world above. 



SONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND. 59 

While our silent steps are straying, 
Lonely through night's deepening shade, 
Glory's brightest beams are playing 
'Round the immortal spirit's head. 

Light and peace at once deriving 
From the hand of God most high, 
In his glorious presence living, 
They shall never, never die. 

Endless pleasure, pain excluding. 
Sickness there no more can come, 
There no fear of woe intruding, 
Sheds o'er heaven a moment's gloom. 

Now ye mourners, cease to languish 
O'er the graves of those you love. 
Far removed from pain and anguish, 
They are chanting hymns above. 



60 THESPIRITHARP. <J 



THE DYING CHILD'S VISION. 

'BY MARIA F. CHANDLER. 

Fairest blossom, thou art fading 
Gently from thy native bough ; 

As we gaze, Death's wondrous shading 
Pencils soft thy sculptured brow. 

0, what raptured vision meeteth 

Thy illumined spirit's eye ; 
Thou thy guardian angel greeteth, 

Radiant forms are hovering nigh. 

Eye-lids fringed with silken lashes 

Joyously have open sprung; 
As to reach the vision lovely. 

Beauteous arms are upward flung. 

" Mother," from those sweet lips breaking 

In affection's softest tone ; 
Echoes in our hearts are waking 

Its subduing power to own. 



Now the blue-veined eye-lids closing 
Powerless now the fair arms fall, 
ti its mother's breast reposing, 
Pain nor sorrow more may thrall 



Powerless now the fair arms fall, — j> 

On its mother's breast reposing, ? > 



coo 

0NG9 OF THE SPIRIT- LAND. 61 H 



THE REQUEST. 



BY J. B. WEEB- 



Bury me not when the wordy prayer 
O'er the gathered throng may fall ; 

And no mourning weed for the sleeper wear 
To the grave w^here goeth all. 

Sound no dirge from the tolling bell, 
To bring forth the heart's deep moan, — 
i There's not a tone in its funeral knell 
\ To tell where the spirit's flown. 

: ^ Go seek, where the pleasant winds may breathe, 

' ^ Bright flowers in their mossy bed ; 

And their living forms in a garland wreath, 
For the cold brow of the dead. 

And lay on my heart a young white rose, 
All fresh with the morning air, — 

'Twill speak of heaven to all of those, 
Who gaze on its beauty there. 



< i Then lower me slowly to the tomb, 
^// While your hymns of joy arise ; 

\ i For the spirit's called to a brighter home, 
ii While the form so darkly lies. 



d(2 



THE CELESTIAL TELEGRAPH. 

BY REV. JAMES GILBORNE LYONS, L L D 

Along the smooth and slender wires 

The sleepless heralds run, 
Fast as the clear and living rays 

Go streaming from the sun. 
No peals or flashes, heard or seen, 

Their wondrous flight betray ; 
And yet their words are strongly felt 

In cities far away. 

No summer's heat, nor winter's hail, 

Can check their rapid course ; 
They meet unmoved the fierce wind's ra< 

The rough wind's sweeping force : 
In the long night of rain and wrath, 

As in the blaze of day. 
They rush with news of weal or woe, 

To thousands far away. 



But faster still than tidings borne 

On that electric cord, 
Rise the pure thoughts of him who loves 

The Christian life and Lord — 
Of him who taught, in smiles and tears. 

With fervent lips to pray. 



Maintains high converse here on earth 
With bright worlds far away. 

Ah ! thought nor outward wish is breathed, 

Nor outward answer given, \ I 

The sighing of that humble heart s s 

Is known and felt in heaven : ^ I 

Those long, frail wires may bend and break, ^ I 

Those viewless heralds stray, 
But Faith's least word shall reach the throne 

Of God, though far away. 



SPIRITUAL COMMUNION. 

How pure at heart and sound in head, 
With what divine affections bold, 
Should be the man whose thought would hold 

An hour's communion with the dead. 

In vain shalt thou, or any, call 

The spirits from their golden day, 
Except, like them, thou too canst say, * 

My spirit is at peace with all. 

They haunt the silence of the breast, 
Imagination calm and fair, 



>l 64 T H E S P I U I T H A R p. ^ 



1 5 The memory like a cloudless air, 5 ^ 

< ^ The conscience as a sea at rest. ;! \ 

^ \ But when the heart is full of din, j I 

>^ And Doubt beside the portal waits, |; ^ 

5 > They can but listen at the gates, ^ ^ 

J ^ And bear the household jar within. J ^ 

il ii 

< 



MY SPIRIT BRIDE. 



BY S. H. LLOYD. 

How sweet to feel around our forms 

Love's pure white folded arms, 
To listen to her soothing voice 

And feel her inward charms ; — 
She fills the heart with gentleness, 

She makes our step more free. 
She makes the heart as musical 

As spring-birds on the tree. 



And blooms where'er she goes, 
Where once the barren desert was 
Now smiles the garden rose. 



?)%- 



SONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND 



65 il 



My angel-one, I see her now, 

She e'er attends my soul, 
Though stars in beauty shine o'er me, 

Or waves around me roll. 

I often in my pensive moods 

Sit musing of my Love, 
While twilight weaves her misty robes 

And stars look down above ; — 
I often think her loving form 

And angel soul I see. 
While fancy builds a rainbow-bridge 

That bears her feet to me. 

I see her in my waking hours, — 

In all the paths I've pressed, 
And often feel her loving head 

Reclining on my breast; — 
Her eyes are beaming on me now 

So beautiful and bright. 
Like dewy stars that sweetly glow 

And cheer the sky at night. 



I know she lives and waits for me, 
And folds me to her heart, — 

That naught the spirit here unites 
The world can ever part. 

Perhaps she dwells 'mong angel groups, 
E'en then I 'd not repine. 



On golden wings the hours speed by 
That bear my soul to mine. 

I do not feel alone on earth, 

For I can love her now, 
And gently fold her to my breast 

And press her dewy brow ; — 
And in my darksome hours she's near, 

Is very near, I know, 
And scatters blessings on my soul, 

Like rose-buds on the snow. 



I AM DREAMING. 



BY J. B. WEBB. 



I am dreaming, ever dreaming, 
Of a bright and pleasant land. 

Where the bowers with songs are teeming. 
And the air is soft and bland. 



There the winds are gently breathing 
All the long and sunny day ; 

And the bird is ever weaving 
Tales of beauty in his lay. 



SONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND. 67 

I am roaming, ever roaming, 

O'er its vallies and its hills ; 
Where the fairest flowers are blooming 

By its brightly-sparkling rills. 

And I -m cheerful, ever cheerful, 

For I deem Pm young again ; 
And the eye is never tearful 

When the heart is free from pain. 

There I sport in far-off meadow, 
'Mid the green and fragrant grass, 

Where cool and grateful comes the shadow 
Of the clouds that slowly pass. 

And I 'm dreaming, ever dreaming. 

That my life again is new ; 
And the sun is brighter beaming, 

And the skies are softer blue. 

Then the friends of boyhood's years, — 
Friends I deemed were ever gone, — 

When I saw them through my tears 
Lowered to the silent tomb, — 



Then they come with kindly greeting, 
Clasp my trembling hand in theirs ; 

And I feel their hearts are beating 
Warmly as in former years. 



68 THE SPIRITHARP. 



And their lips are ever telling, i i 

"Dearest brother, thou shalt comej ?^ 

Here shall be thy happy dwelling 
In the pleasant Spirit-home." 

And I'm cheerful, ever cheerful^ 

For I know my time is near ; 
And the eye is never tearful 

When the heart is free from fear. 



THE MESSENGER-BIRD. 

EY MBS. FELICIA. HSJJANS. 

Thou art come from the spirits' land, thou bird ! 

Thou art come from the spirits' land ! 
Through the dark pine-grove let thy voice be 
heard. 

And tell of the shadowy band ! 

We know that the bowers are green and fair 

In the light of that summer shore, 
And we know that the friends we have lost are 
there. 

They are there—and they weep no more ! 



And we know they have quenched their fever's 
thirst 

From the Fountain of Youth ere now, 
For there must the stream in its freshness burst, i > 

Which none may lind below ! <, l 

And we know that they will not be lured to earth < \ 

From the land of deathless flowers, 
By the feast, or the dance, or the song of mirth, 

Though their hearts were once with ours ; 

^ \ Though they sat with us by the night-fire's blaze. 
And bent with us the bow. 
And heard the tales of our fathers' days, 
Which are told to others now ! 

But tell us, thou bird of the solemn strain ! 

Can those who have loved forget '? 
We call — and they answer not again — 

Do they love — do they love us yet ? 

Doth the warrior think of his brother there, 

And the father of his child '? 
And the chief, of those that were wont to share 

His wanderings through the wild '* 

We call them far through the silent night. 
And they speak not from cave or hill ; 

We know, thou bird ! that their land is bright, 
But say, do they love there still i- 



70 THE SPIRIT HARP. 

THE DYING GIRL. 

^ ^ I'm dying, mother, soon I '11 leave 



The friends I fondly love, 
vi 
To starry climes above. 



And this tired soul shall wing its flight 



Come near me, mother, let me clasp 
Thee, in these arms once more ; — 

Ere life's pale, faint, and flickering beam, 
With me, is dimmed and o'er. 

\ \ bless thy child ; — forgive each fault- 
Each heedless word of mine, 
For soon this spirit shall depart, 
Far from its earthly shrine. 

And when within the shade of death 
This wasting form shall rest, 

! kindly gaze upon the mound. 
That veils my icy breast ! 

And, mother, when the spring time comes, 

And flowers the earth array, 
plant that fav'rite rose of mine, 
^ ^ Above my sleeping clay ' 

u 

y^ 'T will bloom there, mother, so sweet 






And when thou comest near. 



Thou 'It softly gaze upon its tints, 
And weep for me a tear. 

Thou 'It water it with many drops ; 

And as it springeth fair, 
Thou 'It point to heav'n and say — " Like it 

My child now bloometh there ! " 



THE SPIRIT'S FAREWELL. 



BY CARLETON BSYMOrrR M : 



Farewell, farew^ell, I go 

To a far distant land. 
Where fragrant waters flow 

O'er a bright pearly strand. 
I go, my struggle o'er, 

To joyful day. 
Beloved, adieu, no more 

With thee I stay. 
Oh ! tearful hour, we part, 
Death chills my throbbing heart, 
Farewell, farewell. 

Farewell, I would that thou 
Couldst soar away with me, 



72 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 




Where care ne'er shades the brow, 
And loving souls are free : 

Oh ! there we might forget 
The griefs of earth, 

Evil and sad regret 
Have there no birth. 

May we, our sorrows o'er, 

Rest there forevermore, 
Farewell, farewell. 



Farewell, beyond the skies 

I haste me now to dwell. 
Where gladness never dies, 

Nor sounds the dismal knell. 
We part, but we shall meet. 

Far, far from here, 
'Mid peace and pleasure sweet. 

In that blest sphere. 
Adieu, why should I stay 1 
I rise to Heaven's fair day, 
Farewell, farewell. 



THE DEPARTED FIIIEND. 



BY SOUTHKY. 



Not to the grave — 
<j Not to the grave, my soul, 

^ Descend to contemplate 

< The form that once was dear — 

^ The spirit is not there ! 

"> The spirit is not there 

> That kindled that dead eye — 

I That throb'd in that cold heart—- 

> That in that motionless hand 
I Has met my friendly grasp : 

(, The spirit is not there ! 

? It is but lifeless, perishable flesh 

? That moulders in the grave : — 

? Earth, air and water, ministering particles, 

> Now to their elements resolved, 

> Their uses done. 

Not to the grave — 
Not to the grave, my soul, 
Follow thy friend belov'd — 
The spirit is not there ! 
Often together have we talked of death ; 



How sweet it were to see 

All doubtful things made clear : — ^ ^ 

How sweet it were with power, i > 

Such as the cherubim, 5 > 

To view the depths of heaven ! 1 1 

Oh, thou hast first ^ s 

Begun the travel of eternity ! '? I 

I gaze amid the stars, 5 j 

And think that thou art there, J '; 
Unfetter'd as the thought that follows thee. 



Our best affections here, — 
They are not like the toys of infancy : 

The soul outgrows them not — 

We do not cast them off. 

Oh ! if it could be so. 
It were, indeed, a dreadful thing to die I 



And we have often said, how sweet it i s 

Were, \l 

With unseen ministry of angel power, $ I 

To watch the friend we loved : — \ t, 

We did not err. \ > 

Sure, I have felt thy presence, l\ 

Thou hast given s \ 

A birth to holy thoughts, ^ ^ 
Hast kept me from the world, 

Unstain'd and pure : 

We did not err. 






SONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND 



75 



Not to the grave — 

Not to the grave, my soul, 

Follow thy friend belov'd, 

But in the lonely hour, 

But in the evening walk — 
Think that she companies thy solitude ;- 

Think that she holds with thee 

Mysterious intercourse : 
And though remembrance wake a tear, 

There will be "joy in grief." 



LINES TO THE DEAD. 

BY MART E. LEE. 

The dead ! the much lov'd dead ! 

Who doth not yearn to know 
The secret of their dwelling place, 

And to what land they go 1 
What heart but asks with ceaseless tone, 
For some sure knowledo'e of its own '? 



We cannot blot them out 

From memory's written page ; 

We cannot count them strangers, but 
As birds in prison-cage, 



^ 76 THESPIRITHARP. 



V < 



We beat against the iron bar I ^ 

That keeps us from those friends afar. ^ > 



Grief cannot win them back ; 

And yet with frequent tear, 
We question of their hidden lot, 

And list with throbbing ear, 
For some low answer that may roll 
Through the hushed temple of the soul. '^\ 

Death would be dark indeed, 

If, with this mortal shroud, 
We threw off all the sympathies 

That in our being crowd. 
And entered on the Spirit-land, 
'mid a stranger band. 

Far pleasanter to think 

That each familiar face, 
Now gazes on us as of old, 

From its mysterious place, 
With love, that neither death nor change 
'i I Hath power to sever or estrange. 



^ < Ye are not dead to us ; 

But as bright stars unseen, 
We hold that ye are ever near. 

Though death intrudes between, > 

Like some thin cloud, that veils from sight, ^ 
The countless spangles of the night. < 



SONG OF THE PILGRIM. 

I 'm but a pilgrim here. 

Far from my home ; 
I would not tarry long 

From that blest dome. 
There a kind Father stands, 

Smiling in love, 
Robed in light, glorious bright, 

Far, far above. 

Earth has no charms for me 

Sordid and cold ; 
See all its proffered love 

Bartered for gold, — 
Fading and fleeting too, 

Passing away ; — 
Hard the joys that employs 

Life's transient day. 

To that celestial home 

Sorrow nor Avoe, 
Sin, sickness, pain and death, 

Never can go. 
No ear hath ever heard 

Nor eye hath seen. 
In what rest dwell the blest. 

Calm and serene. 



<l 78 THE SPIRIT HARP. 

Then, with my latest breath 

Joyful I '11 sing ; — 
" Where is thy victory, grave ? ] \ 

Death, where 's thy sting ! " ^ ^ 

When in that darksome way < ^ 

Shrouded in gloom. 
Heaven's own light, glorious light, 

Guides us safe home. 



THE SPIRIT'S FLIGHT, 

peom; the gebman. 

When to yon bright celestial spheres 
My spirit soars to view its home. 

How sweetly then shall friendship's tear* 
Bedew the roses on my tomb ! 

Eager this mournful scene to leave. 
Yet tranquil as the moonlit bower, 

And smiling as the sun at eve, 
I wait the calm, the blissful hour ! 



that 't would haste and waft me there. 
Where worlds shall roll beneath my feet ; 



X— ^ 



A SONGS OF THE SPIRIT-LAND. 79 



Where palms immortal flourish fair, 

And friends on earth beloved shall meet ! 

The woes of earth are chains that cling, 
Released but by the hand of death ; 

Its joys — the blossoms of the spring, 
That fall before the zephyr s breath ! 



<^ LOVE NEVER SLEEPS. 

? < Love never sleeps ! The mother's eye 

h Bends o'er her dying infant's bed ; 

> \ And as he marks the moments fly, 

J I While death creeps on with noiseless tread, 

^ I Faint and distressed, she sits and weeps, 

< I With beating heart ! Love never sleeps ! 



Yet e'en that sad and fragile form 
Forgets the tumult of her breast ; 

Despite the horrors of the storm, 
O'erburden'd nature sinks to rest; 

But o'er them both another keeps 

His midnight watch — Love never sleeps ! 

Around — above — the angel bands 

Stoop o'er the care-worn sons of men ; 



; 80 THESPIRITHARP. 

\ With pitying eyes, and eager hands 
;; They raise the soul to hope again ; 

I Free as the air, their pity sweeps 

j The storms of time ! Love never sleeps ! 

\ And round — beneath — and over all, 

) O'er men and angels, earth and heaven, 

\ A higher bends ! The slightest call 

■> Is answer'd, and relief is given : 

In hours of woe, when sorrow steeps 
The heart in pain — He never sleeps ! 



Oh ! God of love ! our eyes to thee, 
Tired of the world's false radiance, turn 

And as we view thy purity 

We feel our hearts within us burn ', 

Convinced, that in the lowest deeps 

Of human ill — Love never sleeps ! 





l^M fljirii. 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



SIGNS OF PROMISE^ 



THE WATCHER. 



BY S. B. BRITTAN. 



By the graves of the mighty dead 
He sat, and the winds were sighing, 

As Night curtained the lowly bed 
Of the dead and dying ; 

While 'midst the sable realms afar 

Appeared a solitary star. 

From the deep of the bending skies — 
Adown through the shadowy gloom — 

The Angels watched, with starry eyes, 
The slumbers of the Tomb ; 

Bidding the mourner dry his tears, 

And still the tumult of his fears. 
11 



82 THESPIRITHARP. 

0, gaze not at the silent urns 
Where Mortality lies sleeping, 

For the rapt Soul adores and burns — 
Thou alone art weeping — 

And Angels, clad in star-lit robes, 

Smile out from their divine abodes. 

The giant Wrong of earth expires, 
And all the sons of Want are blest, 

While brightly bum the sacred fires 
To light the watcher's rest ; 

And Angel-voices from above, 

Proclaim, below, the reign of Love. 

The cumbrous forms of Earth and Time, 
With shafts of purest light are riv'n ; 

Truth, in a victory sublime. 
Descends again from Heaven — 

While morning drives the shades away, 

And ushers in the promised Day ! 



SIGNS OF PROMISE 



83 



THE SPIRIT OF PROGRESS. 

y.Y MRS. F. D. UAGE. 

The gloomy night is breaking ; 

E'en now the sunbeams rest, 
With a faint, yet cheering radiance, 

On the hill-tops of the west. 

The mists are slowly rising 
From the valley and the plain. 

And a spirit is awakening 
That shall never sleep again. 

And ye may hear, that listen, 
The Spirit's stirring song, 

That surges like the ocean, 
With its solemn bliss along ! 



" Ho ! can we stay the rivers, 
Or bind the wings of light. 

Or bring back to the morning 
The old departed night ? 

" Nor shall ye check its impulse, 
Nor stay it for an hour. 

Until Earth's groaning millions 
Have felt its healing power." 



84 THE SPIRIT HARP, 

That Spirit is Progression, 
In the vigor of its youth ; 

The foeman of oppression, 
And its armor is the Truth. 

Old Error, with his legions, 
Must fall beneath his wrath ; 

Nor blood, nor tears, nor anguish 
Will mark its brilliant path. 



But onward, upward, heavenward. 

The spirit still will soar, 
'Till Peace and Love shall triumph. 

And Falsehood reisn no more. 



DAWNING OF THE LIGHT. 



BY M. H. COBB. 



From a long night of dreamless sleep, 
A world is waking now ; 
The scales are dropping from their eyes, 
The shackles fall, they run, they leap. 
Proud in their new-born strength to rise, 
No more in shame to bow ! 



SIGNS OF PROMISE. 85 



As they were gathered in the time 

That tried the souls of men, 
Let us, their children, gather now. 
While yet we glory in our prime, 

And bind us with this solemn vow : ^ ^ 

" We will not sleep again ! " l^ 

We will not sleep ! The murky cloud I ^ 

That wrapt our minds in night, I ^ 

Is rolled away ; the damning stain 
Of bigotry is gone : the shroud. 

Which god-like Reason wrapt, in twain 
Is cleft! Behold the lisrht! 



We will not sleep ! Behold, the chain 
Is riven from our hands ; 
The cadence of that syren song, 
Which soothed and wrapt us, give us pain 
The God that won our homage long, 
In hateful contrast stands. 



Who shall set earthly bounds to Thought, 
When Reason guides the mind ? 
Its lofty purpose who control 1 
Since He who mind and matter wrought, 
Hath fixed in living words the goal. 
This end for each ordained : 



86 THE SPIRIT HARP. 

" Ashes to ashes, dust to dust ! *' 

Their gamer is the grave, 
The costly tomb, the gilded urn ! 
But that which knows not blight nor rust. 
The Mind, the Spirit, shall return 
Unto the hand that gave. 

From this comes Reason's word and law : 
" The mind shall not be chained ;" 
But it may leave the clay and mount 
Up to its Origin, and draw 

From thence, from that eternal fount, 
Some good for us ordained. 

We stand with beating hearts upon 
The threshold of a day, 
When Mind shall converse with its Sire ! 
Lo, we can see its morning sun ; 
The gloomy clouds of Doubt retire, 
And swiftly melt away. 

This is the victory of Truth, 

O'er Error's bigot sway ; 
Her strength is gathered from the blow, 
And Mind, strong in her second youth, 
Shall wield the scepter here below, 
And man her law obey. 



THE PRESENT AGE. 



ARY A. LIVEHWOIi] 



Back has rolled the murky darkness which the 

buried past enshrouds, 
And light from heaven is piercing through its 

densely folded clouds ; 
Brighter than the brightest sunrise, fairer than the 

fairest dawn, 
Is the advent of the Era, which to present man is 

born. 



Loud its trumpet voice is pealing, startling all the 
earth and sky, 

Floating through the azure arches that o'erhang 
us from on high, 

Echoing in increasing fullness to the heaven's far- 
thest span — 

" God, the Father, hath created brethren all the 
race of man." 



Glance across the outstretched Present, quickened 

with intensest life, 
Which, a field of bloodless battle, echoes with 

tumultuous strife ; 



88 THE SPIRIT HARP. 



i Where the sons of Truth enlisted, bold and fear- I 
^ less warfare wage, 

With the tall, gigantic evils, which oppress the 



struggling Age. 



Flashing as the summer lightnings are their bold 

and earnest words. 
Which enfold, like burnished scabbards, truths 

as keen as two-edged swords ; 
And they move in dauntless phalanx, knowing ^ 

not to turn or yield, 
Trusting in the certain victory of the weapons 

which they wield. 



I ^ Where the heel of hard Oppression standeth on 

the quivering heart. 
Where Humanity is bartered at the auction or the 

mart, — 
Wheresoe'er a chain is rusting into any human 

right, 
There they loudest swell the conflict, hottest there 

they wax the fight. 

Where the the arguments of Error are upcast 

against the Right, 
Ossa mounted upon Pelion, toppling in their dizzy 

height, 



There do arms and hearts Herculean wrestle with 

the pile uncouth, 
And the fabric overthrowing, found a monument 

to Truth. 

Not alone are heard the tumult, and the warring 

conflict's din, 
For when fainter swells the clamor, sweeter sounds 

are chiming in ; 
Gentlest sounds, and full of music, than the soft 

South wind more mild; 
Lulling many an anguished spirit, as a mother 

soothes the child. 



Goodness, with the voice of Jesus, winning back 

the child of sin, 
Mercy, pleading for the guilty, though by prison 

walls shut in, — 
Kindness, exorcising evil, by her spell of potent 

power. 
Love and Truth, mankind enriching, with the bliss 

which is their dower. 



Up ! it is a glorious Era ! never yet has dawned 

its peer ! 
Up and work ! and then a nobler in the future 

shall appear ; 



" Onward ! " is the Present's motto, to a larger, 

higher life, i 

" Onward ! " though the march be wearj', though s 

unceasing be the strife. I 

Pitch not here thy tent, for higher doth the bright 

Ideal shine, 
And the journey is not ended, till thou reach that 

height divine ; 
Upward! and above Earth's vapors, glimpses 

shall to thee be given, 
And the fresh and odorous breezes of the very hills 

of Heaven. 



PROGRESS. 



B7 W. P. MULCHINOCK. 



Hark ! the iron age is speaking 

With a mighty thunder tone, 
Like the ocean surges breaking 

'Gainst the immemorial stone ; 
Hark ! the iron age demanding, 

Not in anger, but in ruth — 
" Care-worn Workers, are ye banding 

In the cause of Right and Truth 1 



Progress, progress, ever onward 

Fleet as lightning see you move, 
Forms erect, and eyes cast sunward, 

With proud Faith in God above. 
Down with tyrants, and their lictors, 

For the strife your armor don, 
'Till a world shall hail you victors, 

Toilers on, forever on. 

Progress, progress, toil and sorrow, 
Strife and danger — brave them all, 

Lest the Future's coming morrow 
Find each toiler still a thrall ; 

Every day some task beginning 
You must close ere day is gone ; 

Day of rest is day of sinning ! 
forever on. 

< ^ Progress, progress, friends and brothers, 

> \ Forward now, or die a slave, 

J i Changing.natures with your mothers, 

\ S Sinking into self-made graves ; 

Toilers, act like bold aspirants. 
Freedom's garb of battle don. 
Swerve not, crouch not, down with tyrants, 
Brothers, on, forever on." 

'' Progress, progress ! no man flinches," 
Hark ! the earnest Toilers sav, 



Workers on a barren soil, 

Yours may seem a thankless toil ; 



" Though we now advance by inches, < ^ 

Mile-stones soon shall mark our way ; ^ < 

And the watchword for the lowly, ^ < 

Left by heroes dead and gone — 5 < 

Shall be 'Progress,' high and holy, l\ 

Toilers, on, forever on." i \ 



LESSON OF FAITH. 

Ye who think the truth ye sow, 
Lost beneath the winter's snow, 
Doubt not. Time's unerring law 
Yet shall bring the genial thaw. 

God in Nature ye can trust, 

Is the God of Mind less just '' 

Read we not the mighty thought 

Once by ancient sages taught 1 < > 

Though it withered in the blight I j 

Of the mediaeval night, > i 

Now the harvest we behold ; I J 

See ! it bears a thousand fold. i? 



Sick at heart with hope deferred, 
Listen to the cheering word ; 
Now the faithful sower grieves ] 
Soon he '11 bind his golden sheaves. 

If Great Wisdom has decreed 
Man may labor, yet the seed 
Never in this life shall grow. 
Shall the sower cease to sow 1 
The fairest fruit may yet be born 
On the resurrection morn ! \ 



\\ GREAT TRUTHS. 

BY O a. WAIT. 



Progression's law forbids the race should be 
Perfect at once — it is not in God's plan. 

Progression's law forbids but earth must see 
The babe, the child, before the full-grown man. 

^' Our God is patient," saith St. Augustine, 
^' Because he is eternal ! " If man knew 

He was eternal likewise — if serene 

Did trust in Heaven, he would be patient too. 



94 THE SPIRIT HARP. 

How indivisible the soul ! how this 

Proves it immortal : — cut off a hand, and 

Lo, what loss ! give all thy thoughts — and thou 'It < < 

ne'er miss y^ 

One CTolden m-ain from soul's unwastins: strand ! \ S 



Time clasps the merest part of life, its whole 
Is wide progressive good in endless scope ! — 

Oh let man bathe his harrassed dust-soiled soul, 
In the cool waters of this living hope. 

And trust in Heaven. Alas ! how few do know- 
That God's love, power and wisdom are supreme ; 

That everything — the mean, the vile, the low, 
As we do style them — all are in his scheme. 

For powers adverse to God's there cannot be, — 
No devil's prowl to those in Truth's pure light. 

Such shadows grim of old mythology. 

Such heathen relics suit but heathen night. 

As man advances, this great truth will still 

All doubts! 'Tis ignorance only makes us 
fear ! 

And since nought can act contrary to God's will, 
There 's nothing fallen or degraded here ! 

The comet and the eclipsed moon, to eye 
Of savage man seem omens dire and dread : 



<d 



o^ . -^ ^go 



SIGNS OF PROMISE. 95 



To untaught children stars of night's full sky- 
Do come and go in wild disordered tread. 

The more we have of knowledge, more are sure 
Laws fixed by God sway all. No act then could 

Be done save Heaven will it. Thus, to the pure, 
All things are pure — to God, all, all is good ! 



MISSION OF THOUGHT. 

ET C. D BTCART. 

Brave Thoughts are pioneers of mighty deeds ; 
They stir the sea of souls, as winds control 
The currents of the surge, which ever roll 
Where 'er the boundary of the ocean leads : 
They pierce the dimness of old temples, and old 

creeds 
Break, as the fierce tempest breaks the fragile 
reeds. 
They are like axe-men, who go forth to wake 
The sleeping echoes of the wilderness, 

And plant new seeds of progress where they 
break 
Earth's virgin soil, which sun nor shade did bless : 



They are the Heralds, in whose pathway press 

Strong millions to new eras — Lo ! they make 
The golden ages, unto which aspire 
All human souls, as light cleaves unto fire ! 



HOPE ON, HOPE ON, FOREVER. 



Many a star is gleaming, 

On the sea of life, 
Many a bright ray streaming 

O'er the waves of strife ! 
Many a light is dawning 

O'er the stormy deep 
Gilding like the morning 

The distant rocky steep. 

Many a landscape 's looming 

O'er the mount of wrath ; 
Many a flower is blooming 

By the pilgrim's path ; 
Many a face is beaming 

Smiles of sweet delight, 
Fraught with j oyous meaning, 

To cheer the pilgrim's sight. 



On, the tempest braving, 

Wanderer o'er the sea; 
On, the banner waving, 

On, for victory : 
Courage, pilgrim wending 

Path with danger rife, 
Ever thou 'rt ascending 

To realms of newer life. 

On, and upward hie thee ; 

Loiter not nor fear ; 
God is ever by thee, 

To strengthen and to cheer : 
Though the tempest lower, 

Though the billows roll, 
Faith, the saving power. 

Shall keep thy troubled soul. 

Hope on, hope on, forever, 

And in His might confide ; 
He will desert thee never. 

Thy counsellor and guide ; 
His angels watching o'er thee^ 

A bright and holy band — 
His cloud and fire before thee, 

Lead on to Canaan's land. 



13 



98 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



VICTORY OF TRUTH. 



BY J. L. B. 



Brethren of Progress— ye Cohorts of Right, 
Aiid dauntless defenders of Truth ; 

Not with weapons barbaric go ye to the fight, 
Grey-bearded age, young manhood, and youth. 

But sky-tempered armor, of Reason and Love, 
Christ-proven, successful and sure. 

Unknown yet to bigot, to priest, or to king — 
Consecrated to all that are pure. 



Then bravely to battle with error go forth, 
'T is mortal, and cannot survive ] 

But Truth is immortal, in its nature designed 
To triumph, and ever to live. 



GNS OF PROM 



99 



STRIVE ON. 

Strive on — the ocean ne'er was cross'd 

Repining on the shore ; 
A nation's freedom ne'er was won 

When Sloth the banner bore. 
Strive on — 't is cowardly to shrink 

When dangers rise around ; 
'T is sweeter far, though linked with pain, 

To gain the 'vantage ground. 

Bright names are on the roll of Fame, 

Like stars they shine on high ; 
They may be hid with brighter rays, 

But never, never die. 
And these were lighted 'mid the gloom 

Of low obscurity, 
Struggling through years of pain and toil. 

And joyless poverty. 



But strive — this world 's not all a waste, 

A wilderness of care ; 
Green spots are on the field of life. 

And flow'rets blooming fair. 
Then strive, but oh ! let Virtue be 

The guardian of your aim ! 
Let pure, unclouded love illume 

The path that leads to fame. 



TRUE LIFE. n 

A life of beauty lends to all it sees > ? 

The beauty of its thought ; > > 
And fairest forms and sweetest harmonies 

Make glad its way unsought. 

In sweet accordancy of praise and love 

The singing waters run, 

And sunset mountains wear in light above j ^ 

The smile of duty done ! > ^ 

Sure stands the promise ; ever to the meek \ ^ 

A heritage is given ; J ^ 

Nor lose they Earth who single-hearted seek i i 

The riijhteousness of Heaven. < I 



PEACE AND FREEDOM] 



H. THOV-B'lIDQa 



^ ^ Oj happy timcj when o'er the earth shall walk, \ ^ 

< ^ Sweet Peace and Freedom blessing human ^ > 

i\ kind, <\ 

\ ^ Together they will hold their joyous talk — 



; \ How from old errors they can free the mind, { \ 



OF PROMISE. 101 



That it may be as chainless as the wind, 
And soar in beauty, like a silver star ; 

Then man no more his fellow man shall bind, 
But Peace shall roll o'er earth her radiant car, 
And distant Nations hail her coming from afar. 

Then shall the minstrel sing the songs of love. 

Then shall he strike his lyre to notes of glee, 
Then Peace shall dwell on earth like that above. 
Then he shall hail the dawn of Liberty, 
Then men shall unto men as brothers be, 
Then shall the soul bud forth in feelhigs warm, 
Then shall the blue- eyed morn look forth and 
see 
Glad rainbow tints where raged the howling 

storm 
Of hell-born passions base, and see fair Free- 
dom's form. 

Wake, universal Nature ! with thy shout, 

Onward she comes with scepter meek and 
mild — 
Wake thou in gladness ! let thy voice ring out, 
Earth, Ocean, Sky, and the deep Forest wild. 
Nature's bold anthem ! The vast hills up- 
piled, 
Are filled with echoes, and the old trees nod 
Their sweet, green welcomes to the heavenly 
child ; 






102 THE SPIRIT HARP. 

Wreathed in calm rainbows by the hand of God 
She bears the branch of peace and treads the 
dewy sod. 

The earth seems carpeted with singing flowers. 

And angel voices fill the balmy air : 
Onward she comes from her celestial bowers — 
! view her now — within her golden hair. 
See ye those pale stars wreathed in beauty 
there ? 
Those stars which whisper hope to weary man, 

Those rainbows in the sky of dark despair, 
Which bid him to look upward, and the plan 
Of Nature's God to read, and Heaven's bright 
stars to scan. 

Her mission then accomplished, she will soar. 

And fold her pinions 'neath the throne of God. 
For that is Freedom's home. For evermore 

She wdll keep watch upon the lands she trod. 
The star-crown'd angels from their loved 
abode. 
List Freedom's coming with expectant ear, 
While sweet-voiced seraphs gem the starry 
road. 
And the bright eye sheds not the trembling 

tear, — 
Joys robe the radiant earth, while stars of hope 
appear. 




PROGRESS OF TRUTH. 

Swift fly the mighty words of truth, 
Armed with the spirits' power ] 

The sons of earth shall feel their sway. 
And bless the savino; hour. 



Beneath their sweet and gentle breath, 

The barren wastes shall rise, 
With verdant fields and fruits arrayed — 

A blooming paradise. 

True holiness shall strike its root 

In each believing heart ; 
Shall in a growth divine arise 

And heavenly fruits impart. 

Peace, with her olives crowned, shall stretch 

Her wings from shore to shore ; 
No trump shall rouse the rage of war, 

Nor murderous cannon roar. 



104 THE SPIRIT HARP. 

STAR OF HOPE. 

Bright Star of Hope, thy rise we hail ; 

Our hearts drink in thy glad'ning beams 
While in this lone and dreary vale, 

We seek thy bright, unfading dreams. 



Hail Star of Hope ! our hearts adore 
Thy light, which shines on life's dark wave, 

Like the bright guide on ocean's shore, 
The storm-spent mariner to save. 

Sweet Star of Hope, we follow thee ; 

Herald divine, we catch thy voice : 
Thy notes proclaim Earth's jubilee. 

And bid a ransomed world rejoice. 

Hail Star of Hope ! man's certain guide 
To truth and life, by Mercy given ; 

Spread wide thy rays, till all mankind 
Receive this richest boon of Heaven. 



SIGNS OF PROMISE. 105 



THE MORNING STAR. 

Benighted on the trackless main, 

While stormy terrors clothe the sky, 
The trembling voyager strives in vain, 

And nought but dark despair is nigh, — 
When, lo ! a gleam of peerless light, 

With radiant splendor, shines afar, 
And, through the clouds of darkest night, 

Appears the bright and morning Star ! 

With joy he greets the cheering ray, 

That beams on Ocean's weary breast ; 
Precursor of a smiling day. 

It lulls his fears to peaceful rest. 
No more in peril doth he roam, 

For night and danger now are far ] 
With steady helm he enters home. 

His guide the bright and morning Star. 

Thus when affliction's billows roll, 

And waves of sorrow and of sin 
Beset the fearful, drooping soul. 

And all is dark and drear within, — 
'T is angels, whispering words of peace. 

That drive each doubt and fear afar ; 
They bid the raging tempests cease. 

And smiles the bright and morning Star. 

14 



106 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



MORNING OF FREEDOM. 

Awake the song that gave to earth 
The sacred joys of Freedom's birth! 
Angelic tongues the strain began, — 
'T was peace on earth, good will to man. 

Celestial peace ! and is it ours 
To strike the harp on heav'nly towers ? — 
To welcome back the dove that brings 
The balm of healing in her wings ? 

She comes ! and, lo, the orphan's wail 
No longer loads the passing gale ; 
Contentment sheds her sacred calm, 
And Nature owns the sovereign charm. 



She comes ! and banner, spear, and plume, 
That led to conquest and the tomb, 
Wreathed with the olive, now adorn 
The triumph of bright Freedom's morn. 



IGNS OF PROMISE. 



107 



SUN OF TRUTH. 

Radiant Sun of Truth divine^ 

Thy rays through boundless nature shine ; 

And from the earth in glory rise 

To meet the brightness of the skies. 

Wide let thy glory be displayed, 
In one bright day, without a shade, 
And thus may we supremely prove, 
The nameless, endless joys of love. 

Be darkness known on earth no more, 
But truth dispensed from shore to shore, 
Till men of every land shall see 
Its glorious brightness, and be free. 

'T is done — the Sun of Truth appears. 
The. shades withdraw, the morning clears ; 
Its rays flow over land and main, 
And one eternal day shall reign. 



56 -^ 



PROSPECT OF HEAVEN. 

Now let our voices join 
To form a sacred song ; 

Let pilgrims in the paths of earth 
With music pass along. 

The flowers of paradise 
In rich profusion spring ; 

The Sun of glory gilds the path, 
And dear companions sing. 



MUSIC OF ANGELS. 

Arrayed in clouds of golden light, 

More bright than heaven's resplendent bow, 

The holy angels come by night ^ ] 

To bless the sleeping world below. 

How soft the music of their tongue ! 

How sweet the hallowed strains they sung ! 

Good will henceforth to man be given ; 

The light of glory beams on earth ; 
While angels tune the harps of heaven, 

Their kindred here rejoice with mirth, 
And to the skies their voices raise 
In one sweet song of gushing praise. 



See Heaven's golden spires 
In beauteous prospect rise ; 

And brighter crowns than mortals wear 
Which sparkle through the skies. 

All bright and pure are those 
Who mark the shining way, 

Who lead the weary wand'rers on 
To realms of endless day. 



MISSION OF SPIRITS. 

let our mingling voices rise. 
In grateful rapture to the skies 

Where Love has had its birth ; 
Let songs of joy the day proclaim, 
When Spirits from their heaven came, 

To bless the sons of earth. 

They came to bid the weary rest, 

To heal the mourner's wounded breast, 

To bind the broken heart ; 
To spread the light of truth around, 
And to the world's remotest bound, 

The heavenly gift impart. 



-CDD 



They speak beyond the narrow grave, 
From grief and gloom our souls to save. 

And chase our fears away ; 
Victorious over death and time. 
They lead us to a happier clime 

Where reigns eternal day. 



TRIUMPH OF LIGHT. 

To truth, the joyful nations round, 
In converse sweet shall flow ; 

While to the spheres of heavenly light 
Their songs of triumph go. 

The beams that shine from worlds on high 

Shall lighten every land ; 
And they who dwell in heavenly courts, 

Shall the whole earth command. 



No war shall rage ; no hostile feuds, 

Disturb those peaceful years ; 
To plough-shares men shall beat their swords, 

To pruning-hooks their spears. 



SIGNS OF PROMISE. 



Ill 



No longer host, encountering host, 
Shall crowds of slain deplore ; 

They '11 lay the martial trumpet by 
And study war no more. 



PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. 

Mere earthly powers shall fast decay 

And youthful vigor cease ; 
But those who seek to know the truth 

In strength shall still increase. 

They, with unwearied feet, shall tread 

The path of life divine ; 
With growing ardor onward move. 

With growing brightness shine. 



On seraph- wings, they mount and soar,- 
The wings of faith and love. 

Till past the cloudy regions here, 
They rise to heaven above. 



THE SPIRIT HARP. 



CLOSING PRAYER. 

God of truth, arise and shine, 

In thy celestial light and love, 
On this aspiring world of thine. 

And raise our hopes to realms above. 

O let thy gracious rays of truth 

Be spread through earth's departing night, 
And cheer the hearts of age and youth, 

With beamings of immortal light. 

No more may Persecution's hand 
Sway o'er the world its iron rod, 

While falsely claiming thy command. 
It riots in a martjT's blood. 

Let senseless idols share no more 
The glories of thy sacred name, 

But every land from shore to shore, 
The wonders of thy truth proclaim. 



H 64-84 




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# JAN 84 
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